


Hour of Need

by Morgan Briarwood (morgan32)



Series: The Fallen Trinity [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:59:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan%20Briarwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/219861">When The World Is Burning</a>. Lucifer has his chosen vessel and is stronger than ever. Dean fights on with his small band of allies, but it seems there is little hope. In a desperate attempt to help him, Castiel enlists Anna to raise John Winchester from the dead. Her success has consequences none of them could have predicted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The thing is, John Winchester was never supposed to be a player. He was supposed to be the redshirt: the character who’s important to get the plot going, but who gets killed at the beginning of act two, when he’s no longer needed. But it didn’t work out that way.

Everyone thinks John’s story started in 1983, when Mary Winchester was killed. That’s wrong. Things happened to him earlier than that and from his point of view the story began the day he first met Mary Campbell. But John’s part in the apocalypse really began in January 2004. That’s when he got himself shot hunting a skinwalker on an Arizona res. Dean, who dug the bullet out of his daddy’s shoulder and patched him up, went on to the next job alone, proud as hell that John trusted him to hunt without his backup.

John holed up in a motel while he healed. He lived on painkillers, whiskey and pizza delivered to his door and for six days left the room only when he needed more ice to numb the wound.

On the seventh day, someone knocked on his door. John Winchester, professional paranoid, opened the door with a loaded gun in his hand. He found a teenage girl standing there. She looked up at him, smiled and said, “Hi, John. I’m Karen. God sent me.”

The first thing John did was look for her pimp. I probably would have done the same thing myself. Then he got really suspicious. It didn’t help that he was registered at the motel under one of his ridiculous aliases, yet she knew his name. Like I said, professional paranoid. He must have subjected her to every test for supernatural contamination that exists, and a few extras he invented on the spot, before he let her even talk to him. It made no difference: Karen was just what she appeared to be: a human girl of fifteen, scared out of her wits by the big, bad hunter.

It was a slight exaggeration to say that God sent her to John, though to be fair to the kid, she didn’t know that. It wasn’t God. It was a fallen angel who, centuries before, had been God’s messenger.

(Handwritten notes discovered among the papers of Chuck Shurley aka Carver Edlund.)

  
  


John ignored the ache beginning in his back and leaned over the car again, determined to finish this job before he took a break. He had removed the engine to repair it, and he was just reconnecting it ready for a test. He swore under his breath as his fingers encountered a sharp edge somewhere. He withdrew his hand to see a small bead of blood forming on one finger. He shook his head; it was nothing. 

A movement on his right side caught his eye and John glanced up to see Mary walking into the workshop. He smiled and took the time to wave, but then returned to work. He didn’t like to leave a job unfinished. It took only a few moments to finish reconnecting the engine. He set down his tools, walked around the car and sat in the driver’s seat. He turned the key in the ignition. The engine wheezed a little, then fired. John smiled, satisfied, and shut it down. He left the key on the dash and walked toward Mary.

She was wearing white: a knee-length dress that was light enough to catch the smallest breeze. Her long hair was loose around her shoulders. She was looking great, the pregnancy just beginning to show.

“I thought I’d bring you lunch,” she announced, holding up her bag.

John didn’t touch her, though he very much wanted to. “Just give me a moment to wash up,” he suggested. He would never hear the end of it if he got oil on her white dress. “I’ll meet you in the office.”

He stripped off the stained coverall and washed his hands quickly. Returning to the office, he found Mary waiting, leaning back against the oversized desk. He took her into his arms and kissed her. For a long moment, lunch was completely forgotten. John held her close while they kissed, loving the softness of her body in his arms, the silky fabric of her dress against his palms. He drew her tongue into his mouth and heard her moan softly. John drew back with a smile.

Mary’s face was a little flushed. “John,” she said softly, “not here.”

His smile became a satisfied grin. “Later, then?”

“Honestly, John!” she tried to feign exasperation, but he could tell she was happy. He kissed her again, a quick touch of his lips to hers, then he released her.

While he ate, they talked of unimportant things: weekend plans, local gossip and what was on TV tonight. Through the office window, John saw a new car turn into the garage lot. She was a beauty: a 1953 Cadillac, bright red and shining. Her engine purred as she slid into a parking space, perfectly tuned. A real work of art. 

“A new customer?” Mary asked. 

“Could be. Doesn’t sound like there’s anything wrong with her, though.” John rose from his seat and kissed Mary’s cheek. “I’ll see you later, love. Thanks for lunch.”

“Don’t be late,” Mary smiled: a promise.

John smiled back, then headed out to the parking lot. He was so caught up in admiring the car, he didn’t even notice the driver until she stepped out of the car. She was young to be driving a classic car; John estimated she couldn’t be older than 21. She was not, to his eyes, beautiful, but her appearance was striking. She was tall and thin, her long hair almost as red as the car she drove. With a dye job that vivid, she certainly wasn’t from Kansas.

“Hey, there,” John called. “I’m John Winchester. Car trouble?”

She smiled uncertainly. “I think so. She’s running perfectly, but I can hear this rattle...”

“Let’s take a look. Can you tell me where the rattle is coming from?” 

“Somewhere under the hood, I think.” The girl reached his side. “I am so sorry, John.”

John met her eyes, wondering what she meant. What did she have to be sorry for?

She raised her hand and gently touched his face.

John started to pull away, but then the window in his mind opened and he knew. He knew everything.

“I am so sorry,” she repeated, deep compassion in her dark eyes.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Anna. I am an angel of the Lord.”

It was preposterous, impossible, but John could not doubt her words. He swallowed. “Is this...Heaven?”

She smiled and gave a small shrug. “Not what you expected?”

He shook his head. “Not sure I ever expected Heaven.”

“I’m here to ask you to leave. For the sake of your sons.”

“You know my boys? Are they...?” John’s mind raced. He didn’t even know what year it was, if that even had any meaning here. 

“They are alive,” Anna said, “but things are bad, John.” She lifted her hand again. “It will be quicker to show you, if you will allow me.”

John nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. 

Anna raised a hand and touched him in the centre of his forehead.

  
  


Castiel held Jo’s broken wrist between his palms and concentrated for a moment, knitting the bones together. He felt her relax as the pain eased. 

Jo smiled and withdrew her hand from his. “Thanks,” she said, rubbing the healed wrist.

Castiel nodded. “You are welcome.” He was glad it had worked. He knew his abilities were fading; he could no longer draw on the power of Heaven, and the resources of his own grace were not infinite. It would not be long before the ability to heal left him. He needed to warn Dean before that happened, but now was not the time. 

Dean had taken the ornate lid off the font and was using the holy water to wash the blood from his hands and the demon-killing knife. There was almost certainly a tap somewhere in the church, a better source of water Dean could have used, but Castiel did not object to Dean’s choice. The added protection of holy water on his skin might be needed. Dean finished what he was doing, dried his hands by wiping them on his jeans and turned toward the rear of the church without looking at any of them. He walked away, leaving the others to secure the building.

After a moment, Castiel followed him. Dean found the door to the sacristy and walked through. There was a wooden bench beneath a stained-glass window depicting Christ in Gethsemane. Dean sat there, leaned back against the stone wall and closed his eyes. Castiel sat beside him. Dean gave no sign he was aware of the angel’s presence. He wouldn’t speak to Castiel. He rarely spoke to any of them, but Castiel remained, knowing that Dean found some comfort in this silence. 

It was almost an hour before Dean sighed heavily and opened his eyes. “I’m okay, Cas,” he said. “Go check on the others, will you?”

He wanted solitude, Castiel understood. He rose from the bench and left without a word.

Bobby had a canvas laid out in the middle of the aisle and was cleaning blowback out of the guns. He worked methodically, one piece at a time, reloading each weapon as he finished reassembling them.

Jo was re-arranging the furniture, dragging the heavy pews to the sides. They were too heavy for her, and she was sweating with the exertion. The girl was still too gaunt, her skin stretched too-tightly across her thin frame. Castiel saw more than her physical frailty, however. He saw the taint in her soul, but he could not see the source of it. Dean believed it was the result of her ordeal at the hands of Lilith’s demons: Jo was held and tortured for nearly two months. But the scar on her soul was something more. Castiel suspected she had made some kind of deal to secure her freedom. She had not sold her soul to them; that would have been clear to his sight. But the demon still had some hold on her, and Castiel worried about what that meant. Dean refused to hear his warning that he shouldn’t trust the girl. All Castiel could do was keep watch. And he would.

Ellen came in with a pile of cloth in her arms, and Castiel understood, then, why Jo was moving the pews. They were building beds. Two pews pushed together created a level platform. Castiel considered for a moment, still a little uncomfortable with this. They were on consecrated ground, but no one would worship in this church again. He moved forward to help. Between them, he and Jo built four makeshift bed platforms. Ellen used rugs, curtains and altar cloths as padding and pillows. It was adequate, and better than sleeping on the cold stone floor.

Bobby snapped the shotgun closed. “I’ll take first watch,” he offered.

Castiel studied him for a moment. The day’s battle had been hard on Bobby; though he was not injured, the man was exhausted. He seemed to be operating on sheer iron will. It was unnecessary. 

“I don’t sleep,” Castiel pointed out. “I will watch.”

Bobby’s grateful look confirmed Castiel’s earlier diagnosis. He didn’t argue, but moved toward one of the makeshift beds, taking the shotgun with him.

Dean was still in the sacristy. Castiel was aware of him every moment, whether he could see Dean or not. Dean sat slumped on the bench where Castiel had left him. He held a gun across his knees and was staring at the opposite wall, unmoving. Castiel knew the pain in Dean’s soul, but this was a wound he could do nothing to heal. The loss of his brother changed him. There was a bed waiting for Dean, but Castiel knew he would not use it. He was going to stay on that bench until dawn, or until he passed out.

Castiel waited, his awareness divided between his task of keeping watch and his shared vigil with Dean.

It was an hour before dawn when Castiel became aware of someone outside the church. Ellen, Jo and Bobby were sleeping. Dean, too, was finally sleeping on his lonely bench. Castiel moved toward the church doors, listening cautiously. He heard a single person moving outside. A person moving slowly, perhaps injured. A person who tried the large door but found it blocked.

Castiel sensed no evil, and this was a house of God. If someone outside needed sanctuary, he felt obligated to provide it. Castiel removed the bar from the door and opened it.

A man stood there, cradling an unconscious woman in his arms. Except, she wasn’t a woman, exactly. She was an angel.

“I think the journey was too much for her,” the man explained. “She collapsed when we...landed.” He looked up, pleading silently for help and met Castiel’s eyes. “You’re Castiel. She said I would know you. I’m – ” 

“John,” Castiel said, for who else could this possibly be? “I know.” He opened the church door wide and gently gathered Anna into his own arms. She had done it. She had raised John Winchester from the dead. But at what cost? 

“Come with me,” Castiel instructed. He carried Anna to the bed Ellen made up for Dean.

Behind him, he heard John re-bar the door before he followed. Castiel laid Anna down and touched her forehead to examine her. Her skin felt cold and the light of her grace was very dim. She had just come from Heaven; her grace should have been shining like a sun in her heart. Something was very wrong.

“Where is my son?” John demanded, his voice quiet but determined.

“Dean is in the sacristy. I won’t stop you going to him if you must, but this is the first time he’s slept in three days. ” Castiel stroked Anna’s pale cheek. She didn’t stir.

“Will she be okay?” John asked him. He looked toward the sacristy, his eyes anxious.

“I don’t know,” Castiel answered honestly. He was studying John as he spoke. He knew so much about this man, but he didn’t know _him_. He and Dean had the same eyes. “Please,” Castiel said, “let him sleep.”

John nodded. “I can wait.” His eyes returned to Anna. “She won’t...angels can’t die.”

“We can die,” Castiel disagreed. “We don’t age or sicken, but we can be killed and we can choose to fall and become mortal.” As Anna had done, once. Castiel stroked her cool cheek once again. “Anna expended a great deal of power to bring you here, and she cannot return to Heaven if what she’s done is known.”

“No way to recharge, you mean,” John nodded slowly.

“That’s correct.”

John laid a hand on her forehead, then touched her neck, feeling for a pulse. “Should her pulse be this slow?”

Castiel checked for himself. “No.”

“It seems like hypothermia. Do you have more blankets?”

“They are all being used.” Castiel gestured to the other beds.

Then Bobby’s voice interrupted them. “Not any more.” He climbed down from the makeshift bed and gathered up his bedding.

“Bobby,” John said, his voice carefully neutral.

“I didn’t think they could really do it,” Bobby said. He set the bundle in his arms down on Anna’s bed and began tucking the rug around her.

“You mean you hoped they couldn’t,” John suggested.

Bobby ignored the comment, looking at Castiel. “For hypothermia, one of us would get in there with her,” he said.

Castiel understood that Bobby wasn’t volunteering. He considered. It wasn’t warmth that Anna needed, though it might help. She needed energy. She needed Heaven’s grace. There was only one person who could give that to her: Castiel himself.

  
  


Dean jerked awake, grabbing for his gun before he realised he was alone. He rolled his shoulders and rubbed at his neck, trying to ease the kinks out of stiff muscles. He checked his watch. Almost seven. He didn’t know how long he’d slept, but it would have to be enough. Dean climbed stiffly to his feet and stumbled back toward the main nave of the church. 

In the doorway, Dean paused, listening to their voices. He could hear Castiel and Bobby talking quietly, which he guessed meant either Ellen or Jo, or both of them, was still sleeping. But then he heard a third voice. A male voice.

Dean jacked a round into the chamber of his gun and clicked the safety off. He walked in with the gun at his side, but his finger on the trigger. If they’d let some stranger in, he was going to rip them a new one. The man had his back to Dean, so it was Castiel who first saw him coming. Cas nodded toward him and the man turned around.

Dean reacted without thinking: he raised the gun. He was squeezing down on the trigger when Castiel stepped in front of the thing in his father’s shape, shielding him.

Bobby raised a hand in a  _stop_ gesture. “Dean, wait. It’s really him.”

The man who looked like John Winchester watched him calmly. “I warned you he wouldn’t be happy to see me. Hello, Dean.” He moved around Castiel, making himself a target once more. “Go ahead, son.” He spread his hands. “It’s the least I deserve, considering our last conversation.”

Dean kept his gun trained on the imposter’s chest. “What was our last conversation?” It wasn’t much of a test, but it was the best he could do at short notice. Sam knew part of what John told him that day at the hospital, but not all of it. There were things Dean had never told anyone.

“It was in the hospital, after the car accident. You had just woken up from a coma. I told you about when you were a little boy, how you helped me when I came home from a hunt. I told you I’m proud of you. You asked me why I was saying it and said I was scaring you. I should have known I couldn’t hide it from you, Dean, but I couldn’t leave you without – ” 

“That’s enough,” Dean interrupted. He lowered the gun and walked toward them, trying to take it in. He had become accustomed to the impossible, but this... He looked at Cas, who stood tensely at John’s side. “You did this?”

“No.” Castiel glanced toward one of the improvised beds and Dean saw it was occupied. Anna! Then he noticed the other beds were empty.

“Where are Ellen and Jo?”

“Checking the perimeter.”

Dean nodded. He took a breath, getting his thoughts in order. He pushed the shock aside; first, he had to make sure everyone was safe. They depended on him. 

“If it’s safe, get the cars loaded up. We need to get out of here.”

Bobby gave him a serious look. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he admonished, then turned to go.

Dean looked into his father’s eyes. He had never felt so conflicted. Part of him didn’t want to believe this. Part of him wanted to punch the son of a bitch, but he knew that if he let himself start swinging he wouldn’t stop until someone stopped him. Another part of him was so happy to see his Dad, there were no words for it. Dean’s vision blurred and he felt a single tear spill from his eye.

“Dean,” John said and then they were holding each other, so tightly it hurt. John’s bearded cheek brushed Dean’s neck. Dean inhaled and smelled gun oil and leather and sweat. His father. His chest swelled with both joy and heartbreak at once because why now, why only now when it was too late for Sammy?

When they broke apart, John’s eyes seemed a bit too bright, as if he, too, were holding back tears, but Dean must have imagined it. He had never seen his father weep. Not since Mom...and only once, even then. They stared at each other, John still holding Dean’s shoulders. Dean had no clue what to say. How do you greet the man who went to Hell for you? There was a certain irony in the question, but Dean couldn’t remember the first words Sam said to him in their parallel situation.

Dean opened his mouth and what came out was, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dad, I screwed up so bad – ” 

“No,” John interrupted, in a tone Dean knew would brook no argument. “No, son. You didn’t. You did everything I could have asked. I’m the one who failed. I always meant to warn you both, but in the end I ran out of time.”

_Meant to warn us._ Dean felt a spark of anger. “How much did you know?”

“Everything.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

John spread his hands helplessly. “Tell you that your brother was going to bring on the Apocalypse? What would you have done, Dean? Would you even have believed it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not,” Dean admitted. It was hard to remember Sam as he was then. The little brother who left them for college. The Sam who grieved for Jessica and wouldn’t kill humans, no matter how much they deserved it. The Sammy who died in Cold Oak.

John nodded as if he heard Dean’s thoughts. “Anna filled me in, but there’s a lot she didn’t know. You’ll tell me your side of it?”

“Sure,” Dean agreed, but added, “when we get back to Bobby’s place.” Why did Anna bring Dad back? There seemed only one reason that made sense. Dean was almost afraid to ask, but he had to. “Dad? Can we save Sam?”

John closed his eyes in pain. “I don’t know, son. I just don’t know.”

  
  


Driving the Impala with Dad riding shotgun was weird as Hell. Even when they were hunting together, it never happened: Dad always drove. Except once, when Dad was too badly hurt. Then, Dean sped through the night, desperate to reach a doctor they could trust before Dad bled to death. He made it – barely – only to have Dad rip him a new one because he hadn’t gone after the rest of the pack first.

In the Impala’s back seat, Castiel sat with Anna unconscious in his arms. She was so pale, to Dean she looked dead, but she was breathing and Castiel insisted she would recover. Cas cradled her, occasionally touching her face, his expression revealing the doubts his words denied.

None of them spoke much on the journey.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dean asked as he helped Cas lift the still-unconscious Anna out of the car.

“It took a great deal of power to restore your father, Dean. She used too much.” Castiel took her from Dean, lifting Anna easily in his arms.

“Can you do anything?” It wasn’t the question Dean meant to ask. He wanted to know if she would live.

Cas gazed at Bobby’s house as he considered the question. The house was dark and empty: Bobby, Ellen and Jo were probably a few miles away yet.

“Perhaps,” Castiel said eventually, “but it would put all of you at risk.” He frowned, then turned his eyes to Dean. “Your iron room. May I use it?”

Dean didn’t hesitate. “If it’ll help her, sure.”

“Iron room?” John asked as they walked toward the house.

“We call it the panic room. Bobby built it. The room is iron, painted with salt: walls and ceiling. The whole floor is a devil’s trap.” Dean opened the door for Cas, and then followed him down to the room in question.

Castiel laid Anna down on the cot. He straightened and turned to the two men. “Lock the door, and seal the door at the top of the stairs, too. Do not go near the air vent while we are inside. Do not come down here for any reason. Do you understand, Dean?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I will try to share my grace with her. But I cannot do so from within this vessel. Do you understand?”

Dean remembered Pamela screaming with her eyes on fire. He nodded grimly. “I get it, Cas. We’ll stay out of the way.”

John slowly walked around the perimeter of the room, examining the research displayed there. Dean watching him for a moment, expecting questions, but John didn’t say anything.

Castiel lifted Anna into a sitting position and slipped the jacket from her shoulders. He laid her down again. Her body moved like a dead weight. Cas moved to the other end of the cot and began to unlace her boots.

“Geez, Cas, she’s unconscious,” Dean objected. Was he going to undress her completely?

“If she were awake,” Castiel answered, “this would not be necessary.”

Dean shook his head. It was too much to expect him to understand. But Anna was more human than most angels; she might not be okay with this, even if Cas was trying to save her life. 

“I guess so,” he agreed. “Dad, let’s give him the room.”

John turned away from the display. “Sure.” He headed for the door.

Dean hesitated a moment longer, then wished Castiel luck and locked him in with Anna and followed his father up the stairs to the house.

  
  


It would be so easy to let himself slip back into his old patterns with Dad. Part of Dean longed for someone else to take charge, to lift the crushing weight from his shoulders. He was used to following Dad. He trusted him as a hunter more than anyone else.

But he also knew he could never again be Dad’s good soldier boy. Too much stood between them now: the pain of those months after John’s death, the knowledge of how much John concealed from his sons. That final warning: _you have to save Sam, because if you can’t, you might have to kill him_ – a prophecy so perfectly fulfilled that Dean was afraid to think about much Dad must have known.

Because now, Dean was faced with exactly that. Sam had become, literally, the Devil. 

“Dad,” he began, meaning to say something about Sam.

John leaned back against the wall, his body partially blocking Dean’s way back to the others. He looked down at his hands, the fingers of his right hand straying to caress his wedding ring. For the first time, Dean noticed the ring was missing. 

“It wasn’t your failure, Dean,” John said, his voice quiet, but determined. “It was mine. I underestimated the demon.” He raised his head, meeting Dean’s eyes with a rare look of pride. “You killed him. You didn’t fail.”

Dean felt a familiar churning in his stomach. “You don’t know what I’ve done.” He swallowed, but it was time to confess. “It wasn’t Sam who started all this, Dad.”

“You broke the first seal. Yes, Dean, I know.” John looked down again. “It never should have happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean choked on the words, because he knew _sorry_ didn’t cut it. Sorry was what you said when you didn’t clean a weapon right or you slipped up in a fight. Ending the world was beyond sorry.

John stared at him, his mouth open with surprise. “Sorry? No, son. It was _my_ fault. If I’d done right by you, it never would have happened.”

“I don’t understand.” Dean frowned. He knew Dad kept things from him but this... Then a possible interpretation of his father’s words came to him, and Dean sighed, accepting the condemnation. He nodded. “You should have let me die,” he agreed.

The next instant Dean’s back was against the wall, John’s fists balled in his shirt. “No! God, Dean, that’s not what I meant.” He raised both hands and held Dean’s face between them. “I could never have let you die, Dean. You are my son. The price I paid, it was nothing. I would do it again in a heartbeat, if I had to. Believe me.”

Dean wrenched away. “How do you think that makes me feel? I know what you paid, Dad! I never wanted that.”

Behind him, John drew a deep breath. “Yes, you know what it cost me. But you don’t know everything about why. It’s time I told you everything.”

“It doesn’t matter any more,” Dean whispered brokenly. Nothing mattered. The world was going to end, and the only way to stop it was for Dean to kill his own brother. It was the one thing he couldn’t do. The one monster he could never hunt.

Was that why Castiel and Anna brought Dad back? Did they think _he_ would kill Lucifer? Dean turned back to face his father, the dreadful suspicion approaching certainty.

“Dad. Why did they bring you back?”

A fleeting look of confusion crossed John’s face. “Anna told me it was for the sake of my sons. I assumed you asked her...but you didn’t, did you?” Suspicion replaced confusion and John glanced, narrow-eyed, toward the staircase leading to the panic room.

“No, I didn’t.” Dean stepped into John’s way. “You can’t go down there, Dad. We’ll have to wait until they’re done.” He nodded toward the door. “Let’s join the others, okay? We can finish this talk when Cas is back.”

  
  


The house was still and quiet. 

In the bed beside him, Jo slept, her breathing soft and even, her mind mercifully free of the nightmares that usually plagued her. Dean, however, could not sleep. He eased out of the bed, careful not to disturb her as he pulled on pants and shoes. He crept from the room. He could hear Bobby snoring in the next room. Dean needed no light to find his way in the dark; the house was so familiar to him now that his body remembered the way. He made his way down the stairs slowly, careful to avoid the creaky areas. 

In the main room below, John slept on the couch. Dean considered waking him, knowing Dad wouldn’t object, but he wasn’t really ready to continue their earlier conversation. His steps led him instead toward the panic room.

At the top of the steps, Dean paused, remembering Castiel’s instruction: _don’t come down for any reason._ But he was worried about Cas and Anna. Dean hadn’t asked if there was any risk to Castiel in what he planned to do, and he should have. He’d expected whatever it was to take a few hours at most. There had been no sign of the two angels since Dean locked them in. So Dean disobeyed Castiel and descended the steps to the heavy iron door. He didn’t open the door, just stood outside, listening, hoping his friend was alive in there.

Dean heard only silence. He saw no hint of angelic light. It was possible the room was empty, of course: Castiel didn’t need doors.

The lock was cool under his hand, and Dean was about to open it when he heard Anna’s voice from within.

“Castiel?” she said, sounding confused and disoriented. She must be just waking up. Then she spoke again, alarmed: “Castiel!”

“This was the only way,” Castiel answered her. He sounded apologetic.

For a time, nothing more was said. Dean heard the sounds of movement, the creaking of the cot springs.

Then Castiel said, very softly, “It is forbidden.”

And Anna replied, “So is everything we are doing, Castiel.”

The sounds that followed were as unmistakeable as they were surprising: motion, heavy breathing, Anna’s voice moaning in pleasure. Finally Dean heard Castiel cry out, a short, incoherent cry followed by murmured words Dean couldn’t make out.

Dean was smiling to himself as he ascended the stairs once more.


	2. Chapter 2

In the early part of fall, after Sam Winchester disappeared – some said died – in Ilchester, the inexorable march of the apocalypse seemed mysteriously to pause. For a time, demonic activity was less than it had been for years. There were no more earthquakes, super-tornados or floods. Even the Seattle Flu began to wane as the CDC, which had been close to declaring a national emergency, announced that the first trials of a vaccine had been successful.

Few hunters were able to rest. In Wisconsin, a skinwalker morphed into a prehistoric tiger and took out three hunters. The fourth broke the skinwalker's back with an axe, killing it as effectively as a silver bullet, but not before it tore his stomach open. He made it to a hospital, but died two days later. In Florida something lurked in the Everglades. The press and the locals mostly thought it was a monster croc, but hunters knew the signs of something unnatural at work. The first pair of hunters who went in after it never came back. The next hunting party was larger and better prepared. Only one of them made it out.

In South Dakota, Dean Winchester and his allies sought only demons, and one demon in particular: Samhain, released from Hell a year before by a witch’s ritual sacrifice, now possessed the pastor of a doomsday cult known as the Brotherhood of Enoch. It was unclear whether Samhain founded the Brotherhood himself or took possession of the charismatic paster after the church began collecting new members. Dean didn’t care. Samhain had the ability to raise and control all manner of monsters. Dean was determined to find the demon and kill him before evil son of a bitch had a chance to get creative.

But the strange and sudden lull in demonic activity made the search for Samhain more challenging. For a time, though they could still track the activities of the Brotherhood, there was no trace of the demon.

In November, the first reports of whole towns turned into horror movies began to reach the Winchesters and their allies. The earliest reports were from isolated places: small midwest towns with dwindling economies and populations. It meant that by the time the hunters came across the stories, whatever caused the horror had already moved on. The attacks had no pattern they could discern, so they had no way to predict where the demon might strike next. Eventually, since they had no better plan, they split up to investigate the worst of the stories. Bobby Singer headed to a town in North Dakota where creatures like twisted children poured out of the cornfields, hungry for living flesh – animal and human. Ellen and Jo Harvelle travelled to Minnesota, where a great furred creature came from the forest at night and slaughtered all in its path. The people it killed rose again the next night, transformed into monsters. And Dean and John Winchester went to check out the reports from a town Dean once visited with his brother where, the stories said, zombies walked the streets, hungry for human flesh. The few who survived their attacks, once touched, became zombies themselves. The town was Lost Creek, Colorado.

  
  


Kat contemplated the pharmacy door. Behind her, the wind rattled the shutter of an upper window and Kat gasped, whirling around. She looked this way and that, scouring the street. She relaxed only when she was convinced all she’d heard was the wind. Turning back to the pharmacy, Kat pulled her coat sleeve down over her hand and made a fist around the fabric. She braced herself and punched the glass hard. She winced with pain. The glass shattered on her third attempt and she jerked her hand back quickly. She rubbed her bruised fist, but didn’t let it distract her. She had to be quick.

Working as fast as she could, Kat knocked the sharpest shards out of the way, then reached through the hole she’d made and unlocked the door. She waited for a second, half-expecting an alarm to start blaring, but it was silent. Of course it was. There was no power, so the alarm wouldn’t be active.

She headed inside, clicking her flashlight on to help her see in the dim interior. There were shelves of goods in long, neat rows. Kat walked past everything. What she needed would be in the back. She expected to find the main drug storage area to be locked, and knew getting in there wouldn’t be as easy as breaking a window. She was right. Kat slid the lock-pick into the lock, probing carefully, but she didn’t really know what she was doing. She thought she heard it click and grinned in triumph, but the door remained stubbornly closed. 

Kat stepped back, considering. She thought shooting out the lock would work, but the gunshot would attract attention. Most likely the wrong kind of attention. On the other hand, she couldn’t go back without the medicine they needed. Seeing no other option, Kat drew her gun and looked around for something to use as a muffler. In the movies they always used a pillow, but she saw nothing that would work. She shrugged to herself. She would just have to be very quick.

The gunshot was shockingly loud in the small space, but Kat’s aim was true and the lock sprang open. She holstered the weapon as she moved forward. Inside, there were rows and rows of neatly stacked boxes and bottles. She scanned the shelves quickly. There were so many unfamiliar words, she didn’t know what anything was. But she had memorised the names of what they really needed and it didn’t take very long before the right box jumped out at her. Kat pulled the backpack from her shoulders and began to fill it. Then she looked for the next thing. Kat didn’t find everything on her list, but she found most of them. When the backpack was full, she tied it closed and headed out. She closed the door of the storage room behind her; it wouldn’t lock again, but it was her habit to leave things neat and tidy. On her way back to the exit she passed a display of first aid supplies. She stopped and grabbed as much as she could, stuffing her pockets and even the front of her pants. 

At the door, she peered out into the street. Everything appeared still and silent. It was too silent. Knowing what was in this town, Kat didn’t trust the quiet. Kat bit her lip as she contemplated the deserted street. It was still daylight, and she was armed. She would be safer if she made a run for it now than if she waited. She looked both ways, took a deep breath, and ran.

She didn’t even get halfway up the street. They came from all sides: out of the shadowed alleys between buildings, the recessed doorways, beneath abandoned cars and even from above. Freaking zombies! Fear lent Kat speed and she thought at first that she might outrun them. Her backpack jumped as she ran, each fall slamming into her lower back, but she could not leave it behind.

Three more zombies appeared in front of her. Kat drew her gun. For a moment she hesitated, part of her still unwilling to do what she had to do. But these weren’t people. They only looked like people. Like the ghosts back in Rockford. Kat pulled the trigger.

She hit the first right between its dead eyes and it went down instantly. Her second shot missed, and the recoil made her wrist ache. She took aim a third time and squeezed down on the trigger as something tugged on her backpack.

Kat screamed and whirled around, her third shot going wide. The fourth was point-blank as the  _thing_ reached for her and its head exploded in a rain of blood and brains. She twisted back and killed another, then ran faster than she ever had before. At any moment, hands would grasp her again. At any moment her feet could catch on something and she would fall. Her lungs burned with the effort to breathe. She saw the barrier ahead: three wrecked and burned cars blocking the street. On the other side of the barrier, Tommy’s motorbike waited. If she could reach it, she could outrun them easily. She was almost there.

Kat risked a backward glance and instantly wished she hadn’t. God, there were loads of them! And they were so close. She leapt for the barrier, both hands outstretched to grab the frame of the car, to haul herself up.

Something grasped her foot and tugged hard. Kat screamed and kicked out. Her other foot slipped. Metal cut into her hand as she struggled to pull herself up.

A shotgun blasted over her head. A hand closed over her wrist and she screamed again.

“I’ve got you! It’s okay!” a man’s voice yelled. Kat looked up into the face of a stranger. But he was human; that was all she cared about. Relief flooded through her as the man hauled her up. Someone else was still shooting, but Kat couldn’t see who that was. On top of the barrier she clung to her rescuer, gasping for breath.

Gently, he shifted her to the side and, understanding his intent, she let him lower her down to the relative safety of the other side.

“Is anyone else back there?” he said urgently.

“No,” Kat panted. “I came alone.”

“Good.” He pulled back his coat, revealing a belt full of grenades. Kat saw him take one in each hand. He ripped out the pins with his teeth as he turned back to look at the _things_ crowding close to the barrier of cars. 

“Fire in the hole!” he yelled.

Kat threw herself to the ground and covered her head as the explosion ripped through the air. She felt the ground shake beneath her with the force of the blast. Then the man was helping her up.

“You okay, kid?” he asked her.

“I...yes. I’m fine.” Kat looked up at him, the shock of what happened beginning to catch up with her as her adrenaline rush faded. “Thank you,” she added.

He barely acknowledged her thanks. He turned to his companion. “Looks like we’re a bit late to the party.”

Dean reloaded his shotgun. “Yeah, you think?”

Kat felt weak. “Dean? Dean Winchester?” She wasn’t sure she could take many more surprises.

Something almost like fear flashed across Dean’s face before he covered it with a frown. “Do I know you, sweetheart?” he said suspiciously.

“I’m Kat Grantham. You and Sam saved my life. In Rockford, Illinois.”

Dean looked at her closely. For a moment, Kat thought he wouldn’t remember her. But then he nodded. “The haunted asylum, yeah. You’re a long way from home.”

Kat felt a familiar stab of pain. She struggled to keep her tone casual and offhand. “Home’s gone. It was the Seattle flu. Everyone’s dead.”

“Right,” Dean said indifferently. He took a bottle of water from an inside pocket and drank, then offered it to her.

Kat took the plastic bottle and drank gratefully. “Thanks.” She looked at the older man.

“I’m John,” he offered. “The boy with no manners is my son.”

Kat smiled. “I’m glad you were both here. But I’ve got to go.”

“What’s the hurry?” John asked her.

Kat moved toward the motorcycle. It had fallen onto its side, maybe when the grenades blew. “I went in there to raid the pharmacy. Ben’s sick. He needs antibiotics.”

“Is it far?”

Kat hauled the bike up. “A few miles. I’m living with the Collinses in Lost Creek.” To Dean, she added, “They know you, too.”

Dean grinned. “I remember Haley.” He turned to his father. “Her brother was taken by the wendigo you sent us after.”

John nodded. “Let’s go.”

  
  


Kat left the motorcycle on its stand and ran for the front door. She pounded on the door with her fist. “Haley! It’s me!”

The door opened quickly. Haley’s happy smile died when she saw Kat. “What happened? You’re...”

“I’m okay.” Kat slipped the backpack off. “I’ve got the pills for Ben. And I’ve got news.”

Haley took the backpack from her, but her sharp eyes noticed Kat’s bloody hand. She raised her eyes to Kat’s face. “What happened to your hand?” she asked sternly.

Kat looked at her hand. “It’s okay. It’s not a bite.” She held it out to Haley.

Haley examined the wound carefully. “Thank god. I’ve been worried sick.” She pulled Kat into a hug.

Kat hugged her back with relief. They held each other tightly. Kat felt Haley’s breath on her neck and turned her head to kiss her. “It’s okay,” she promised. “I’m okay.” Kat knew Haley had been scared, but someone had to go.

The rumble of the approaching car reminded her there was more to tell and she pulled back. “Haley, I found some people. Or, they found me.” She looked back over her shoulder as the dusty black Impala rolled into view.

Haley took two steps past her. “The Winchesters?”

Haley’s happy smile took Kat by surprise. So did the jealousy that flashed through her at the sight. “It’s Dean and his father,” she explained grumpily. “They saved me.”

Haley gave her a worried look. “You need to clean that cut.”

“I know,” Kat nodded. “I will. You need to get that medicine to Ben.”

  
  


A few hours later, they were sitting around Haley’s dining table. Ben was still in bed. It was too early to know if the meds were helping. Everyone else was at the table: Haley and Kat, Dean and John. Haley made a quick-and-easy meal of spiced chicken and rice; Dean attacked his plateful enthusiastically while he listened to their story.

“We call them zombies,” Kat explained, “because that’s how they behave, like movie zombies. But I don’t know what they are.”

“I’ve never seen anything quite like them myself,” John admitted, “and I thought I’d seen everything.”

“I have,” Dean said grimly. To Kat he added, “You ain’t gonna like it.”

Kat was eating with her left hand: her right was heavily bandaged. The bandaging was a little excessive, but she didn’t mind Haley fussing over her. She opened her mouth to answer Dean, but Haley got there first.

Haley set down her fork with a thump. “Dean, those things killed Tommy. I already don’t like it.”

Dean met her eyes. “I’m sorry about your brother,” he said softly. He addressed his next words to his father. “A couple of years ago, me and Sam came across this. It’s a demonic virus. Croatoan.”

“Croatoan?” John repeated. “I remember something about that.”

“It’s spread through contact with an infected person’s blood and if there’s a cure we never saw any sign of it. The victims become...” he glanced at Kat, “a lot like movie zombies. Violent. Mindless. They ain’t dead, though. They hunt in packs.”

“How did you boys get out of it?” John asked.

“We were holed up in a clinic with a couple of locals. One of ’em was an ex-marine, like you, so we had help. We were all set to fight our way out. We’d cooked up the napalm and everything. But Sam...” Dean broke off. After a moment, he shook his head. “They vanished. The whole town, except the few with us who were never infected, were just gone. At the time I couldn’t make sense of it.”

“The demons covered their tracks.” John looked grim. “I want to be sure there’s nothing we can do before we move on. If this thing is demonic...”

“I’ll call Cas,” Dean agreed.

“Wait,” Kat interrupted. “Slow down. What the hell is happening?”

“Here in Lost Creek?” Dean asked.

“Everywhere! Terrorists blowing up a convent in Maryland, martial law in Texas, the Seattle flu, doomsday cults in California...I thought America was going insane. But now...is it all connected?”

Dean looked at her. “Not bad, Kat. Yeah, it’s connected. I hate to tell you this, but...” he hesitated, then said bluntly, “It’s the apocalypse.”

  
  


“Do you think he’s right?” Kat asked. She climbed into the bed she shared with Haley and yawned.

Haley folded her clothing over the chair and unhooked her bra. “Dean isn’t crazy. I know that for sure.”

“He might still be wrong,” Kat suggested hopefully.

“Do you think he is?” Haley pulled her nightshirt on over her head and looked at Kat. “You were the one who said all this stuff is linked and Dean’s explanation made a lot of sense.”

“Yeah, but...the end of the world? It’s like a bad joke.”

Haley slid beneath the comforter. “I know it’s scary. I think we just have to do what we’ve always done. Look out for each other.” She reached for Kat’s bandaged hand. “Don’t run off like that again, baby. What if they’d caught you?”

_Like Tommy._

Kat moved closer and kissed Haley. “Someone had to go. Ben needs those antibiotics and he’s not the only one. Winter’s coming and if we’re staying, we’ve got to be prepared. I just thought...”

Haley touched her lips, gently cutting off her words. “I know what you thought. I love Ben, Kat, but I can’t lose you. Not now. Please, promise me at least next time you won’t go alone.” Her fingers moved to Kat’s neck, a tickling caress, then down to stroke one of her breasts.

Although Kat was tired – it had been a long day – she leaned into Haley’s touch. She slid her hands beneath Haley’s nightshirt, stroking the smooth skin of her back. “Not alone. I promise.” It was an easy promise to make; Kat knew very well that if Dean and John hadn’t been there, she would have died like Tommy. She wasn’t eager to risk her life again. “I promise,” she said again.

The nightshirt lifted easily over Haley’s head. Kat let it fall to the floor and bent to kiss her clavicle. If this was the end of the world, she was going to make the most of it while she could.

Haley sighed with pleasure as Kat’s mouth moved lower down her body. She arched her back, threading her fingers through Kat’s hair to guide her. For a while, she forgot her fears and worries. She forgot everything except the pleasure, and how lucky she had been to find Kat.

Much later, Haley carefully disentangled herself from Kat’s sleeping body. She pulled her long nightshirt back on and stood to close the curtain. In the moonlight falling across the bed, she watched Kat sleep for a few moments before she closed the curtain, plunging the room into darkness, then left to check on her sick brother.

Haley understood why Kat felt compelled to risk her life today. Ben’s illness must have pushed all her buttons, and Haley felt guilty for not recognising it sooner. Kat lost her whole family when the Seattle flu swept through her hometown of Rockford, Illinois. After burying her parents and brother, Kat packed everything she owned into the car that was now hers, emptied her bank account and just started driving. She’d made it sound romantic when she told the story, but of course it wasn’t. Kat had been crazy with grief, alone in the world for the first time in her life. She didn’t even have a destination in mind: she just kept driving.

Eventually, Kat’s aimless travelling brought her to Lost Creek. Haley met her on the road just outside town. Kat had a map spread over the hood of her car, but she wasn’t dressed like someone on a hiking trip. Haley stopped to offer her help, assuming the girl had taken a wrong turn somewhere and become lost. She liked Kat immediately, and was curious about this strange girl who seemed to have her entire life stuffed into the trunk of her car. Somehow, in the course of their conversation, one of them had mentioned the Winchester brothers and they discovered they had the acquaintance in common. That was enough for Haley to invite Kat home to meet her brothers. She asked Kat for supper, then suggested she stay overnight. Then for a few nights.

Now, Kat was family. If Haley ever doubted it, Kat had proved it today.

The door of the spare bedroom opened a crack and Haley saw Dean peer out. He must have heard her moving around. She smiled. “I’m just checking on Ben,” she whispered. Dean nodded and closed the door again.

Haley opened the door to Ben’s room as quietly as she could. The reading light beside the bed was still on, but Ben was sleeping. Haley drew up a chair to sit beside the bed. She laid her hand on Ben’s forehead. There was no fever! She felt tears well up into her eyes. He was going to be okay.

Ben fell sick when they lost Tommy, and at first Haley thought it was the grief. She felt pretty awful herself. But when she heard Ben throwing up in the bathroom, Haley began to worry. Two days after that, Ben had a high fever and could barely keep water down, let alone food. Ben was twenty-two, fit and healthy. He should have been able to shrug off the flu, or whatever this was. But he wasn’t recovering, and there was no doctor left to call.

Haley should have realised what Ben’s illness would do to Kat, but she’d been too worried about her little brother. She was more grateful than she could ever say that Ben had the medication he needed, but she would never have forgiven herself if Kat didn’t come back from her reckless mission.

Haley poured some water ready for when Ben woke and watched him for a while. Finally satisfied he was okay, she returned to her bed, and to Kat.

  
  


Suddenly, Haley’s small house was very crowded. She had been prepared for Dean’s friend to be someone like him: weird, tough, maybe a little scary. She had not been prepared for  _angels_ .

It was a relief to escape into the kitchen. She gathered ingredients for a meal she could prepare quickly: canned soup enhanced with some extra herbs and freshly made bread. It would be enough for everyone. Haley carried the tureen into the dining room and found everyone already seated. Ben had joined them, and she smiled at him, grateful he was feeling well enough. She set the tureen down and reached for a bowl and ladle. But then she hesitated, looking at her new houseguests.

“Uh, should we say grace or something?” she asked awkwardly. The idea was alien to her, but it occurred to her that if there were really angels, maybe there was a God, too. She didn’t know how to deal with that. Or with them.

Anna smiled. “If you usually don’t, there’s no need on our account,” she answered gently.

Haley glanced at the other one, Castiel, whose expression suggested he might have given a different answer, but he let Anna’s reply stand for both of them. 

Okay, then. “Thanks,” Haley said to Anna. She started ladling out the soup, passing the bowls out to each person at the table.

“What do you know of this virus, Dean?” Castiel asked.

It wasn’t good dinner conversation, but Haley was curious enough to let it go.

“Not much,” Dean admitted. “You know, Sam was the geek.” 

There was the silence that always seemed to fall when Dean mentioned Sam’s name. Haley guessed something horrible had happened to Dean’s younger brother, and she mourned for him. But she knew better than to ask.

Dean went on, “It showed up as traces of sulphur in the blood. The people infected turn in about six hours. Sam was immune somehow. That’s about it.”

Castiel turned to Anna. “Sam’s blood would have given him immunity, but that doesn’t help us. Do you think we can cure this?”

Anna tore a piece of bread, dipped it in her soup and ate it while she considered. After three bites, she answered, “We can’t cure it the way we exorcise demons. It would kill them.”

Castiel nodded, then addressed everyone else. “We are too powerful; it’s difficult to control with any degree of delicacy. When we destroy a demon, we also kill the body they are possessing. It is unavoidable.”

“So you can’t take out the virus,” John repeated, “without burning the ones infected?”

“Exactly,” Anna answered, “but I think, maybe...” She looked at Castiel, then continued speaking in a language Haley didn’t recognise at all. Castiel responded in the same language. For a while, everyone human was excluded from the discussion.

Finally, Anna looked around the table, making eye contact with each of them. “Neither of us has encountered this Croatoan virus before, but we have experience of something that may be similar. We’ll need to go into town to investigate.”

“That’s crazy!” Kat burst out.

“We will be in no danger,” Castiel told her.

Haley took Kat’s hand under the table. If these two really were angels, they must know what they were doing.

“If the choice is between the infected and the living,” John said, “there isn’t a choice. We have to contain this before the virus spreads. Those roadblocks won’t last.”

Haley felt herself blanch as she understood what he meant. Her grip on Kat’s hand tightened and they looked at each other.

But it was Ben who said it. “They’re not real zombies, man. They’re alive! You’re talking about mass murder.”

John gave him a withering look. “No. I’m talking about war.”

“Ben, I know how it sounds,” Dean said, “but we’re not gonna burn the town until we know for sure there’s no one left.” He turned to Castiel and Anna.

The two angels exchanged a look. Castiel stood. “We will investigate immediately.”

Castiel hadn’t touched his food, Haley noticed. Anna, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying it. She popped a last bite of bread into her mouth then stood to join Castiel.

“We’ll be back at first light,” she said. She offered her hand to Castiel. He linked hands with her and suddenly they were gone.

Haley felt a breeze lift her hair and jerked back from the table, staring at the empty space.

Dean grinned at her shocked expression. “You get used to it,” he said.

  
  


After cleansing the Croatoan-infected town – as expected, there was no one left within the boundary marked by the roadblocks except the infected – the two angels took flight into the mountains. Population was sparse in this part of Colorado and the troubled times had thinned the people out even futher. The Collins family were the only ones left for miles, but there were others like them in isolated hamlets and cabins.

Anna revelled in the beauty of the night, darting between the trees as she flew with Castiel close behind. Up, they flew, higher and higher into the mountains until there was snow beneath them. The cold had no effect on them. Anna found a snow-filled gully near the summit and there she stopped, throwing herself down in the snow. 

Castiel was at her side at once. He knew, as she did, that they were many miles from the nearest human. Even animals were scarce at this altitude. They were alone and here, they could be themselves, without restraint. They both wanted the same thing.

Clothing vanished as they moved toward each other. Anna kissed him eagerly, excitement already rising in her. Her own wings were their bed as she took Castiel inside her and they made love in the snow.

This forbidden act was as close as Anna could come to the humanity now lost to her. For Castiel, she knew their coupling was a few moments he could be free of the doubts that tormented him, but she thought – or hoped – perhaps it was becoming more for both of them. Love? As much as Anna longed to believe it, she knew angelic love was a pale reflection of the human emotion. But it had to be enough.

Anna woke to Castiel kissing her. She smiled up at him contentedly.

“You are more human than you know,” he murmured between kisses.

She ran her fingers over his bare chest. “What do you mean?”

Castiel drew back, his expression suddenly serious. “You fell asleep, Anna.”

She understood at once how strange that was. Angels did not need sleep. Was something wrong with her? Anna sat up, worried. Since she drained herself raising John Winchester she had been...different, but she attributed that to Castiel’s method of healing her. She was filled with  _his_ grace, not her own, until she could return to Heaven. She thought back, replaying the past few weeks in her mind, trying to identify anything else strange. Food. She ate food. Angels could eat, but they didn’t need to so mostly they didn’t bother. And there was this human-like affair with Castiel. Brutally honest, she added her love for Cas to the list.

“What is it, Anna?” Castiel asked.

Anna. Even that name. It was her human name, but Castiel had known her for millennia by another name. The first time they made love, in the iron room where Cas brought her back to life, he had called her by that name, but he never did any more. She had become “Anna” to him.

“You’re right,” she answered. “Something isn’t right with me.”

Castiel’s lips brushed her shoulder as he hugged her from behind. “You seem well to me.”

“No, Cas. I shouldn’t sleep. And earlier, I wasn’t eating soup to be polite. I was _hungry_.” Anna closed her eyes and raised both hands to her head. With concentration and a small exertion of power, she began to examine her vessel. It was a simple task that should have been routine, but Anna’s body wasn’t exactly a vessel. It was her own, human body, resurrected and restored after it was destroyed in her explosive return to immortality. No other soul shared the body with her.

Anna’s hands glowed softly as she examined herself, touching her arms, her neck, her chest and waist. She spread her shining hands wide over her flat stomach and slid them slowly down toward her thighs. That was when she felt it. She gasped aloud.

No. It wasn’t possible. She was an angel. Her body couldn’t age or change or grow.

Cautiously she repeated the motion. It was impossible...but it was true.

“Castiel,” she whispered. She reached for him, sliding her palm over the back of his hand and her fingers between his to guide his movement. Then she moved their joined hands down her body.

The moment Castiel sensed what Anna had, his whole body tensed, his power flared. His fingers twitched under hers. She released him and turned to see his blue eyes wide, shock and fear plain on his face.

“It cannot be,” Castiel said.

“But it is,” Anna answered.

  
  


Kat had three beer bottles in her good hand. She climbed the ladder up to the roof hatch using the other. She still had a dressing on the cut, but it was healing nicely. She had no difficulty climbing. Dean and Haley were already up there. The flat part of the roof had a timber deck and on warm summer nights they often sat up there.

“...just in case,” Dean was saying as Kat emerged onto the roof.

“We owe you, Dean. You saved all of us at Blackwater Ridge and you saved Kat in town. Ben might have died, too, if she hadn’t come back with his medicine. So you can rely on us if you need help.”

“It’s a risk for you, Haley. I want you to get that.”

Kat moved toward them and offered Dean one of the beer bottles. “If it’s the apocalypse, Dean, just breathing is a risk. I’m with Haley.”

She knew she’d misspoken when she saw the look in Dean’s eyes as he raised the bottle to his lips. “You sure are. Who knew?” 

_Pig!_ Kat thought, but she didn’t say it. Instead she handed another beer to Haley and took her place at her side. Haley kissed her lightly.

“We have enough stored to last the winter, but I’m not sure how we’ll cope long-term,” Haley said, ignoring Dean’s remark. “With the town gone, there’ll be no work. We might have to move in spring. But as long as we’re here, you’ll be welcome.”

Dean took another pull on his beer. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. He took a deep breath and said, “There’s something else you should know. About Sam.”

Kat curled her fingers around Haley’s hand. They had both wondered about Sam’s absence. Kat suspected he was dead.

“I don’t think there’s any reason for him to come here,” Dean said, instantly proving Kat wrong. His tone was flat, unemotional. “But if you do see him, don’t trust him. Sam...he’s not Sam any more.”

Haley frowned. “You mean he’s possessed?”

Dean was slow in answering, but finally he nodded. “That’s close enough. Yeah.”

  
  


“They will destroy you!” Castiel insisted.

“And you think that’s right, don’t you?” Anna sounded very unhappy.

Haley paused outside the room. There were too many secrets for her comfort around here. John and Dean wouldn’t tell what they were going to do in town today. Dean was vague about Sam’s fate. All around her were cryptic conversations. Haley felt uneasy about eavesdropping, but she still did it.

Castiel’s voice was strained. “Anna, the law was laid down by God. How can you defy him?”

“This is not the same,” Anna answered.

“You can’t be sure.”

“No, I can’t,” Anna admitted. “Not yet.” She sounded determined, though, not defeated. “Believe me, Cas, if it turns out to be... I’ll obey the law. But think about this, Cas. How could this have happened to me? I think we have to consider if maybe it’s God’s will.”

There was a long silence. Finally, in a very neutral tone, Castiel said, “What will you do?”

“Hide among the humans, I think. I can pass as one of them.”

“The archangels can find you anywhere.”

“Yes, but only if they have reason to look. Cas, if they were going to come after me for raising John they would have done it by now. You know what that means. I just have to hide.”

Haley moved into the doorway. “You can stay here,” she offered impulsively.

Both angels turned to her. Anna walked toward Haley, her arms open as if she was going to offer an embrace.

“That’s kind of you, Haley. I would love to stay here, but you must understand the risk you’ll be taking.”

“Just promise me you’ll explain it. No secrets. We won’t kick out a friend in trouble, Anna.”

Anna smiled warmly. “Thank you. It’s good to have a friend. But don’t decide too quickly.” She looked to Castiel.

Castiel said, “I will accompany Dean and John into town. You can stay and tell Haley and Kat what you must. But take care, Anna.”

  
  


Castiel would not eat breakfast, but Anna found herself hungry: another sign that something was not right, but now she understood it. Haley and Kat laid on a huge breakfast: eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes fresh from their kitchen garden, fried potatoes, bread warm from the oven with real butter and plenty of coffee. When Dean remarked on the spread, Haley explained that they often missed lunch, so she always made enough breakfast to “set you up for the day”. 

When the men were gone, Anna offered to help clean up, but Haley asked her to leave the breakfast dishes in the sink. They needed to talk. Anna agreed, and the three women sat around the table.

“I am pregnant,” Anna announced. It felt ridiculous to even say it, but she could immediately see from Haley and Kat’s expressions that they didn’t understand. “I want to make this clear to you both. I am an angel. This body is a vessel, not my true form.”

Kat interrupted her. “Wait. You’re possessing someone? Like a demon?”

“No. Most angels do, but the vessel has to be willing. I am...different. It’s a long story and I’ll tell you some time if you want, but the bottom line is this is all me.” Anna waited but Kat seemed satisfied. “When an angel takes a vessel, their physical body is frozen. It doesn’t age or grow or change. For a female body that means...”

“No monthly visitor,” Haley grinned. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Anna returned her smile. She had never suffered much from cramps when she was human, but she knew many women did. “It can be,” she agreed, “but you understand that means the body is infertile.”

Haley’s smile faded as she considered. “That makes sense, but then how did you get pregnant? I mean, who is the father?”

“It can only be Castiel. We’ve been...lovers for a while. But I have no idea how it happened. Neither of us should be fertile.” Anna leaned forward, meeting Kat’s eyes, then Haley’s. “There is a way this can happen, but it’s not what we did, and it’s a serious crime. That’s why Cas and I were arguing earlier. You see, if any of the other angels find out about this, they will kill me. Many of them will think nothing of dropping the equivalent of a nuke on us, just to make sure.”

The two women looked at each other. Anna wasn’t surprised they were having second thoughts. She had intended it. Without thinking, she laid a protective hand over her abdomen, once again feeling that tiny, impossible spark of life within. 

“Haley, I’m grateful for your offer of shelter, but I can’t accept it unless you understand the danger. Right now, the only people who know are you two and Castiel. If we tell no one else, I can protect us. I am still an angel.”

Haley shook her head. “It won’t work, Anna. A pregnancy doesn’t stay secret for long. It gets kinda obvious after a while.”

Anna nodded. “True. Ben will have to know, too. But it will be winter soon and we’ll be alone up here. What I mean to say is no one else can be told. And you absolutely mustn’t pray about it. They’ll hear your prayers.”

Haley shrugged. “I haven’t prayed since my parents died. That part is no problem. You, uh, you mentioned protection?”

“Yes. You have the anti-possession charms Dean gave you. We can also put protective symbols around the house which will make us invisible to both angels and demons. There are other things I can teach you, too, in case we need to fight.”

Haley considered. She thought it over for a long time, her expression pensive. Anna couldn’t read her thoughts, but she was pleased Haley took so long to come to a decision. It meant she was considering all angles and when she decided, she would be sure.

“Dean doesn’t know about this?” Haley asked. 

“No. Castiel won’t tell him until it’s time.”

“What does that mean? When is it time?”

“This life inside me,” Anna began, “I don’t know what it is. I don’t know how this happened to me. As it grows, I will be able to learn more about it. When I understand what this is, I will call Castiel, and he will tell Dean. It may be...” she hesitated, but forced herself to say the words, “Cas may have to kill me to prevent the birth.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Kat blurted.

Anna met her shocked eyes. “As I said, I don’t yet know what this life will become. There is a reason this is forbidden to us. The children angels fathered on human women millennia ago were terrible creatures. If there’s any chance this is... Yes, Kat. I will give up my life before risking that.”

Haley nodded. “Well, you’re right about winter and we know we’re the only ones left in Lost Creek. Are you sure about the invisibility thing?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess we’ll be safe until spring. When are you due?”

“I have no idea,” Anna confessed. “I’m not human. There’s no reason to expect this to take a human length of time.”

“Good point,” Haley conceded. “Alright. If Kat and Ben are okay with it, I say you’re welcome to stay.”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Over the following two weeks, they were busy.

Anna taught Haley, Kat and Ben how to protect their home from demons and angels. The anti-demon protections were easy: Haley had enough salt in her stores that Anna suspected she already knew a little about supernatural protection. She showed them devil’s traps and how to create holy water. She painted sigils all around the perimeter of the Collins property to make them invisible to angels. She showed them the sigils that would keep angels from entering, though they couldn’t use them with Anna in the house. Anna also taught them the angel-banishing sigil, cautioning them that it would banish her, too, so it should only be used in greatest need. The banishing sigil would work only if drawn in human blood, so they practised with watercolours until all three of them could draw it quickly and accurately.

Haley was a remarkably practical woman. While Anna worried about supernatural protection, Haley thought of a lot of things Anna hadn’t even considered such as maternity clothing, vitamins and baby supplies in case Anna’s pregnancy progressed quickly. And when they hiked into the town to find those things, Haley also found several books about pregnancy and childbirth. They would all have to study, she declared.

In the second week of October, a state patrol car came through Lost Creek. After confirming both officers were human, Anna joined Haley in talking with them. Both men were a bit wild-eyed, and more than a little scared. There were a lot of empty settlements in the area, and there was no explanation. Haley assured them they were fine and well prepared for the coming winter.

After the cops left, however, Haley and Ben headed up to the abandoned Rangers station. They broke into the old cabin and took the radio equipment. Just in case.

By the time the first snow fell, they were ready.

Anna fell in love with her new family. Snowed in, with no other soul for miles around, it could have been difficult, but it wasn’t. They found a routine that suited all of them and gave each of them space for themselves. Mornings were spent doing chores: keeping the house clean, chopping wood, maintaining both the wards and the guns. Lunch was a communal meal, they all took turns preparing lunch for four. Even Ben, who was a competent, if uninspired, cook. Afternoons were for fun. Long walks in the snow, games in the living room, movies on DVD or, sometimes, alone-time spent reading or just gazing out of a window. Haley always cooked the evening meal herself and it was always the kind of meal that could stretch out for most of the evening, a buffet laid out on the table that they could return to as the evening went on. In the evenings, they talked. They told stories, shared their pasts, told jokes...and discussed more serious matters, too. 

They seized any excuse to make a day extra special. Thanksgiving was wonderful. Kat’s birthday a week later was even better. They decorated the house for Christmas, going hugely over the top with the streamers and fairy lights. Just before Christmas, the phone went out. Two days later, so did the cable TV and their internet access. Anna had been expecting it. The lines of communication that kept the USA going were weakening. 

They still celebrated Christmas, but Anna wondered if there would be much to celebrate in the new year.

  
  


“What was it really like?” Ben asked. “The first Christmas?”

They were in the living room, sharing the chocolate cake that was Kat’s Christmas gift to Anna, with hot spiced beer and egg nog. It was late on Christmas day and the room was lit with candles and the glow of the burning logs in the fireplace.

All eyes turned to Anna and she hesitated, not sure what to say. She was tempted to lie but Ben's eyes were shining with eagerness and Anna couldn’t decide what kind of lie would work best. Should she claim she wasn’t there, or tell them the stories were true? Kat, too, leaned forward, eager for the story. This meant a lot to her. Kat’s faith was strong, even after the losses she’d suffered and Anna was aware that Kat regarded her as proof of her beliefs. Kat was an intelligent girl; she didn’t think of the Bible as literally true, though she was raised among those who did. The truth of the stories wouldn't shake her faith, Anna decided.

“Not much of the traditional story is true,” Anna admitted. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Hell, yeah!” Ben agreed.

Anna kept her gaze on Kat. After a moment, Kat nodded. “Yes, please.”

Anna settled back onto the couch and grabbed an extra cushion to stuff behind her back. Her pregnancy was advancing faster than would be normal for a human and she had reached the stage where the extra weight made her back ache. “I can’t tell you about the baby. Gabriel handled that, and no one knows the truth of it except him and God. The rest of us only knew the child was very special. He was going to change the world.”

Unconsciously, she touched her own stomach. Every new life was special. Every one of them might someday change the world, but it was rarely certain. This one had been certain. “I wasn’t present when the child was born, so I don’t know much about the truth of that story. The part about the baby being born in a stable is probably true; it wasn’t very unusual in those days. And the story of the shepherds has some truth in it...I think they were vessels for the angels sent to watch over the child in those first days. Someone so important was in danger even before he was born.”

“In danger from what?” Kat asked. She was leaning forward, enthralled by the story.

Anna shrugged. “Everything. Kat, some events are so important, everyone can feel it when they happen. Last year, when the seals were breaking, you must have felt it. You might not have understood what you were feeling, or why, but it was still there.”

Haley nodded. “You’re right. It was like...like depression, I guess. Bad news seemed worse than it really was. That's when I started storing food. I wasn't even sure why I was doing it at first. I just had to.”

Anna smiled at her. “You have good instincts, Haley. That was the coming of something terrible. The time I’m talking about was something wonderful, but the feelings were similar. It wasn't just every human who could feel it, but every supernatural thing, too. And they all reacted differently.”

Anna cast her mind back. “The humans were restless. They could feel something building, but very few understood it. But the humans were...” she hesitated, “not our problem. That is, our orders were to avoid the humans unless they directly threatened the family. It was the other creatures my garrison was sent to look for.”

“What kind of creatures?” Kat asked.

“Many. Demons, old gods, what you would call monsters. Some of them were attracted to the family. The demons wanted the child, of course, and they were willing to go to any lengths to find him. That’s where I come into the story.”

  
  


_What Anna remembered most clearly was the stars. The sky was full of them that night: tiny, twinkling points of light. Anna saw them through the eyes of an elderly woman who had welcomed the angel in exchange for the healing of her old, aching bones. The condition of the vessel was irrelevant to Anna, but she was curious about the woman and her human existence. So instead of overwhelming the vessel, Anna strove to share the body. She found she loved seeing the world as the woman did. Through her, she understood life. She knew the day to day toil of it; the tinny sound of bells around the goats’ necks; the smell of bread cooking; the weight of the jug balanced on her shoulder when she drew from the well each morning and the cool, sweet water on her tongue. It was a sensuous delight, this life, but what Anna remembered best was the stars._

_To Anna, the stars were merely what they were: distant stars, some circled by distant worlds, but all too far away from her current assignment to be worth her attention. But her vessel saw the stars so differently. They were the anchors of her life, signs and omens. A sky full of stars meant biting cold outside but human warmth and comfort at home. It meant climbing the hills to take food to the shepherds – a terribly long walk in the bone-chilling cold – but the warmth of a fire and the comfort of her children on her return. The stars meant a hundred different things and all of them meant life. A life Anna found she envied, just a little._

_She was on Earth for a purpose, however, and could not neglect her mission. The garrison was assembling; Anna merely awaited orders._

  
  


“We were stationed in the town,” Anna explained. “Our task was to keep the demons away. We expected to find the town infested with them, but when we arrived there were no omens.”

“Omens?” Ben asked.

“Demons are not of God’s creation, so their presence is, uh, disruptive to the natural order. There are always signs, usually in the weather, or tides. Nature going wrong. Some humans can track the signs – men like Dean Winchester – not just angels. But no omens means there are no demons.”

“So, if there were no demons...?” Ben prompted.

Anna smiled. “Oh, there were. But they knew we would be waiting for them.”

  
  


_The stars gave Anna the warning._

_Anna’s breath was white in the cold air. She drew her shawl close around her face and rubbed her arms, not because she was cold, but because it would appear strange to the humans if she were not._

“ _I have swept the town twice,” Castiel reported. “There are no demons here.” He stood straight and tall, making no attempt to appear humanly cold._

“ _I know,” Anna answered. “Perhaps those assigned to hide the family were successful.”_

“ _Perhaps,” Castiel agreed dubiously._

_Uriel landed at her side with a sweep of his wings. “Nothing,” he reported curtly. He eyed Anna with obvious distaste. “It’s bad enough we must inhabit these monkeys. Was that the best you could find?”_

_Uriel’s vessel was a young and handsome man, of course. Anna ignored his insult to the body she wore. “We are here to witness the birth of a human child, Uriel. Your disgust for them is disobedience.”_

_Uriel began to sputter a protest but Anna interrupted him. “Silence! Look at the stars.”_

_Castiel turned his face upward. “I see nothing.”_

“ _Those aren’t clouds,” Anna pointed out._

_Uriel smiled tightly. “About time.” He tensed, gathering his grace for battle._

_There were about fifty demons in that dense cloud. If they waited for the demons to take bodies there would be too many to fight. But they couldn’t do battle with demons in smoke form. Unless..._

“ _Castiel,” Anna ordered, and he snapped to attention. “Follow me. Uriel, wait for_ them _.” She could not trust Uriel to battle in the sky. He could get a little over-enthusiastic. Castiel would follow her lead. Without explaining her intent, Anna rose from her vessel, abandoning human form as she rose into the sky._

_In this form, she was invisible, but far stronger and without bodies to possess, the demons were weaker. She cast out her grace like a net, catching five demons at once. She burned them one after the other, quickly, releasing the ashes of their souls to fall like black snow._

_Castiel rose with her. She was pleased by how fast he understood her intent. They killed twenty with their nets, but that left twenty more and they were getting close to the town. Anna signalled to Castiel and they joined their powers together. She rose with him in a spiral, creating a vortex of grace, like a tornado. She heard the demons scream as they were sucked in to perish when touched by the grace of two angels._

_But it took a great deal of power to keep it going. Anna felt Castiel falter a moment before the power drain hit her, too. There were still demons left, flying toward the town. She felt one slip through the vortex, unharmed. Then another. In desperation she spun faster, tightening their spiral. She let go of everything except the need to complete this task._

_Their invisibility slipped away. From below, humans saw the stars themselves drawn into the power, a huge, glorious ball of light falling toward the town. The last of the demons touched Anna’s grace and died. She broke her link with Castiel and released her power, letting her wings carry her back to Earth._

  
  


“You’re serious?” Kat asked, laughing. “The star of Bethlehem was you?”

“I don’t know,” Anna admitted. “That part of the story could have come from something else, The legends change so much over the centuries.”

“That’s amazing,” Kat said, shaking her head.

“I was punished for that,” Anna added. “Showing ourselves to the humans was strictly forbidden.”

“How were you punished?”

“I was sent to Earth to watch. Left alone, invisible, for a very long time.” Anna shrugged, trying to make it seem unimportant. Those centuries alone were the reason she fell. She wanted to see the stars again. She wanted to feel alive.

Anna reached for another slice of chocolate cake with a satisfied smile.  _Now_ , she felt alive.

  
  


#### January

Haley woke feeling uneasy. She couldn’t put her finger on why. Kat was sleeping peacefully in the bed beside her. Nothing in the room seemed out of place. The house was quiet. But something deep in her gut felt wrong.

She slid out of bed and dressed quickly without washing first because there was no hot water early in the morning. She buckled on her boots and pulled an afghan on over her sweater before she headed downstairs. It was still dark outside and no one else was awake yet. Haley busied herself with her usual morning chores: she cleaned out the fireplace and lit a fresh fire. In the kitchen she boiled water for tea and coffee, checked the contents of the cupboards and made up some powdered milk.

Finally, she made tea and carried her mug into the living room, where the fire had caught and was burning merrily. She found Anna there, standing at the window.

Anna had given up her tight jeans – they no longer fit her – in exchange for a long skirt. She usually wore a light blouse but this morning she had dressed for the cold: she wore a wool vest over her blouse and a crochet shawl around her shoulders. She was gazing out of the window with an intensity that brought back Haley’s earlier unease.

“Anna? Is something wrong?” Haley asked, meaning _have they found us?_

Anna turned. “Yes,” she answered simply.

Haley’s stomach churned.

“It’s not my brothers,” Anna said quickly.

“Next time, say that _first_!” Haley snapped, and got a quick smile in response. “What’s wrong?” she asked again, more gently.

“I’m not sure. There’s something happening I don’t understand.” Anna shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was cryptic. Come and sit down and I’ll try to explain.”

Worried, Haley joined Anna on the couch. She sipped her tea.

“Remember a few days ago you were asking me about Heaven?” Anna asked.

Haley nodded. Every now and then one of them got curious enough to ask about the things they thought an angel would know. What was Heaven like? What was _God_ like? At Christmas, Ben asked what really happened in Bethlehem. A few days after, Kat had asked some very carefully worded questions about life after death. She was trying to be subtle, but Haley knew her real question and she thought Anna had guessed it, too, from her answer. Kat wanted to know if being gay would keep her out of Heaven. Her upbringing had been heavy on the religion, unlike Haley’s.

Anna told Kat that no one could tell her where her soul would end up, but that loving someone was never a sin. She explained that human souls were _supposed_ to go to Heaven and you had to do something pretty serious to get locked out of the club. It wasn’t, quite, an answer to Kat’s question, but Kat was happy with it.

“Sure, I remember.”

“What I didn’t say is there are...beings...whose job it is to make sure souls go where they’re supposed to. Humans have free will and that’s, um, a problem when they don’t want to leave. Those beings have a lot of different names. Dean calls them reapers.”

“As in the Grim Reaper? Death? Blue-eyed skeleton in a black cloak who talks in block letters?”

Anna frowned. “I was with you up until block letters.”

“Sorry. It’s from a novel. You mean _the_ Grim Reaper.”

“Yes. Reapers are invisible unless you’re dead or dying and whole they have the power to give and take life they aren’t dangerous to the living. But they are solitary creatures. There are thousands of them, but they almost never meet each other.”

Haley swallowed. This sounded really bad. “Are you saying there’s one here? One of us is going to die?”

Anna reached for her, laying one hand on Haley’s arm. “No. Not here in the house. What I’m sensing is many of them. Maybe twenty, and not far from here.”

“I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense, Haley. Reapers only gather like this when there’s a major disaster. Even if everyone in this house were going to die today, it would need only a single reaper to attend our souls. Not twenty.”

“But there’s no one else in this area.”

“No.”

Haley took a deep breath. Most of the time Anna seemed like a regular person, but occasionally, like now, she was struck by how different Anna was. She wasn’t greater than human, the way she would have expected an angel to be, but very _other_. Anna was talking about this as if she expected Haley to understand the implications. But five minutes ago Haley didn’t know reapers existed.

She shook her head, trying to clear the confusion. “You said major disaster. How major, Anna? Give me some examples.”

Anna shrugged. “The battle of Gettysburg. The planes hitting the World Trade Centre. The earthquake last year in San Francisco. Hundreds, thousands of deaths.”

“So you’re saying that hundreds of people are going to die here, except there’s no one here _to_ die.”

Anna looked surprised. “Yes. Exactly.”

“That makes no sense at all.”

“I know.” Anna pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “I’m going up to the roof.”

Before Haley could ask why, Anna was gone. She sighed. _Normal people walk,_ she thought testily. Haley rose from the couch and headed into the kitchen, where she made more tea. Then she put on her parka and headed up to the roof deck to join Anna. She found the angel standing right at the edge of the roof, gazing up into the mountains.

“I brought you some tea,” Haley offered.

“Thank you,” Anna answered, but made no move to accept it.

“Have you, uh, found anything?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Anna...you said the other angels might drop a nuke on you.”

Anna half-turned to meet Haley’s eyes. “I don’t believe that’s what I’m sensing, Haley. I would tell you.”

“I guess three humans dying isn’t much, but maybe if _you_ – ” 

“Three humans are vastly more important than I am, Haley. My father ordered us to bow down to humankind. I have not forgotten, even if my brothers have. I am an angel. I don’t have a soul. When I die, I cease to exist. Reapers come only for human souls, so they are not here because I am going to die.”

“Oh.” Haley felt ashamed, suddenly. She didn’t know what to say.

They both heard it in the same moment: the roar of a very large plane flying much too low. Haley turned and her foot slipped on the icy deck. She let the mug of tea fall as she grabbed for the rail and it smashed, but the thunder of the plane drowned out the sound. The trees behind the house blocked the view of the distance, but as Haley straightened up she saw it. A huge passenger jet, maybe a 747, moving very fast. It was so low she could read the lettering along its belly. And suddenly she knew why twenty reapers were nearby. How many people were on that plane?

“Oh, my god,” she breathed.

“Guess again,” Anna said quietly.

The plane passed directly over the house. The noise was deafening. Haley watched it pass, her tension mounting. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. Not even when – 

An explosion ripped through the fuselage, visible but unheard above the engine noise. As fast as the plane was moving, it seemed to Haley that she watched in slow motion: first the wing ripped away, trailing flames. Then the crack appeared in the centre of the fuselage. It filled with orange flame and the plane tore itself in two as it fell out of the sky. It hit the ground out of her sight, but only a few miles outside of town. Two thick plumes of black smoke rose to mark the impact.

“I have to go,” Anna announced. She turned to face Haley and stopped, looking past her.

Haley followed her gaze. Ben stood behind them, staring up at the smoke-filled sky. He was only half-dressed: jeans and a t-shirt. He must have been frozen.

“Ben?”

He looked at Anna. “It looks about fifteen miles and the snow is over a metre deep. You can’t go.”

“I don’t need to walk, Ben. If anyone survived, they will need help. I am an angel of the Lord. I must go.”

“Then I’m going with you,” Ben said determinedly.

Haley expected Anna to refuse, but she smiled gently, then nodded. “Go quickly, then. Dress as warmly as you can and bring water.”

Ben slid down the ladder back into the house. Anna started after him but Haley stepped into her path, even though she knew Anna could just blink past her if she wanted to. “Anna, is it possible this is a trap? For you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you taking Ben?”

“Because he decided it’s necessary.” Anna said it as if it were obvious. She met Haley’s eyes with a slight frown. “Haley, he’s your baby brother and it’s okay that you still think of him that way. But Ben is trying to be the man of the family and it would be very wrong of me to undermine him by insisting he stay home and safe.”

For an instant, Haley saw Tommy in her mind’s eye. “Shit. You’re right. But isn’t there something? Can you at least protect him?”

Anna looked over her shoulder to the rising smoke. “I can’t be sure what’s out there, but... Haley, if there’s real danger I’ll send Ben right back, I promise. But if I do, you must lock this house down tight, and be ready with the blood spell. Promise me.”

Haley didn’t like the sound of this at all, but she nodded. “I promise.”

  
  


Anna and Ben landed in the woods. Ben doubled over, coughing hard. Anna put her arm around him to help.

“The first time is always a shock. Deep breaths, Ben.”

Ben took a deep breath and straightened. He looked around them. “What are we doing here? I thought we were going to the plane.”

“We are.” Anna pointed to the sky above them as the plane descended over the mountain. From this angle she could tell it was already out of control. They watched as the tragedy played out before them again: the plane’s rapid descent, the explosion. Anna saw the plane break up before the two pieces of the fuselage ploughed into the trees. Trees fell like twigs under the onslaught and the plane’s remaining wing was torn away. The noise was tremendous.

Ben moved closer to her. Anna knew he was afraid. She would have been, too, when she was human. But she had chosen their position carefully; none of the debris would touch them.

Anna fixed her gaze on the plane again, casting out with her angelic senses. If she detected any sign of another angel she would send Ben home. But there was no angel near. She did locate one demon. Only one? She checked again and was sure. Just one demon. One was all it took, she knew. Still, it didn’t feel right. Anna was acutely aware of how cut-off she was. Not just from Heaven – she had chosen that – but cut off from her friends, from Castiel, from knowing what was happening in the world.

She had no more time to think about it. She moved away from Ben, just enough that they were no longer touching. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, knowing that he wasn’t ready for what they would find. He couldn’t be. Anna had an angel’s detachment. Ben was human.

“I – uh – what are we going to do?”

“First, I have to find the demon. Then we have to check for survivors. This won’t be pretty, Ben. If you need to bail, it’s okay.”

He raised his chin slightly. “I’m not gonna bail.”

He had guts. Anna admired that. “Okay. Don’t come too close until I tell you it’s safe.” Anna left Ben where he was and walked toward the burning wreckage. She could feel the heat from some distance away, but it took only a tiny exertion of power to quell the flames and clear a path for herself as she entered the plane through the gaping hole left by the wing.

The smells were worse than the heat. Burning fuel and plastic and human flesh. The plane had been full. Almost every seat held a body. Most wore the flimsy oxygen masks that planes carry in case of emergency. They had been useless in this emergency. Most of the passengers were belted into their seats. It might have helped them survive the crash, but those seatbelts trapped them when the fire blasted through the plane. Somehow – Anna couldn’t quite see how – the fire of the explosion, super-heated, had come through the fuselage with great force, incinerating everything in its path. None of the humans had a chance. The lucky ones died in the impact. Some were still alive, in terrible pain. 

Anna could not allow herself to be distracted, though she longed to help them. She needed to find the demon first. She was sure it was still here, in one of these broken bodies. Anna studied each face, registered each soul and moved on.

The demon was close. Anna knew it would be near to the explosion. Demons cared nothing for the bodies they rode. If its body was destroyed in the blast, it had jumped to another, but Anna thought it more likely it survived.

When she saw it, she knew she was right. The demon’s body was trapped in a seat, the oxygen mask melted into its flesh. Anna smiled. The demon was trapped in there. It couldn’t smoke out through the mouth because the mouth couldn’t open. Anna gathered her strength and reached across the seat. The demon’s eyes followed her movement, but it made no attempt to escape her. She laid her hand on its head and channelled her grace through her palm, burning the demon into nothing and releasing the soul it held hostage to the waiting reaper.

Pain ripped through her and Anna gasped aloud. She doubled over, clutching at her abdomen. She fell to her knees. She drew in a deep breath, not caring that the air was still full of smoke. Slowly, the pain faded.

What was that?

Anna knew she was weak, but if her grace was insufficient to the task, she would have failed to kill the demon. Using her grace shouldn’t hurt.

She remained on her knees and laid both hands over her womb, checking the life within her. The baby moved at her touch. It was well, but something felt...not right. Somehow, using her grace to kill the demon harmed the baby. Not much, nothing was wrong, but it was there. Something. Someway.

Anna rose to her feet, still feeling a little unsteady. She could no longer kill. Could she heal?

She was surrounded by the dead and the dying. There was no other help for them. She _had_ to be able to heal!

Anna scanned the bodies around her and selected one of the least injured, though even the least hurt was still terribly wounded. The young man was badly burned, but the damage was all external. Anna touched him, once again letting her grace flow through her hand. She felt no pain, but something _clenched_ deep within her and she stopped quickly. She looked into the young man’s eyes and in that moment, she knew him. She knew his childhood in Chicago, his first love, his child, his worries and his hopes. She knew his pain. She knew he recognised her as an angel and heard his silent prayer of thanks to God.

Her heart breaking, Anna touched him once more, between his eyes. His eyes closed and consciousness left him, forever. He would live for a while longer, but without pain.

Anna felt her tears overflow. She could not help these people. Not without risking the life she carried within her. She touched her belly again, feeling the baby within. She still didn’t know for sure what the baby was. There was still a possibility she might have to kill it. Could she justify preserving its life at the cost of so many?

All around her, the reapers worked silently, paying no attention to the angel in their midst. This was her choice. Anna truly believed that God entrusted this new life to her. She could not have become pregnant if it were not God’s will. Was this a test? What did God expect from her? One life, or many? But it wasn’t about the numbers. It was many human lives against a single miraculous life. Framed in that way, Anna knew her brothers would sacrifice the humans without hesitation. But Anna had spoken the truth to Haley: she valued human life. As an angel, it was her duty to bow down to humankind. To serve.

Anna moved to the next injured passenger. She had no choice, she decided. If it cost her the baby she carried, that too was God’s will.

But she couldn’t do it. She laid on her hands and tried to heal but her grace would not respond. It should have been so easy, like keeping her own heart beating. Anna felt no pain, no wrongness. She was not drained of power. It simply didn’t happen.

One of the reapers paused in its work and turned to look at her. It was in the form of an old man and Anna read an ancient wisdom in his eyes. He said nothing to her, but Anna understood his message. Fate. God’s will.

Anna walked from the plane, slowly. Behind her, the flames rose once more.

  
  


Ben was waiting a safe distance from the plane. There was a ring of melted snow around the wreckage. Ben looked up as Anna emerged and she could see from his expression that he knew what she would say.

“Anna, what’s wrong?” Ben looked as distressed as she felt.

Anna didn’t even try to hide her tears. “There is nothing we can do for them,” she told Ben. “Let’s go home.”

“I thought we came to help!”

“We did, but...” she hesitated, not sure how to explain. “My power to heal is...”

Ben slid the pack from his shoulder. “Anna, can you do _anything_?” He moved toward the plane. “What about the fire?”

Yes, she could deal with the fire. Flame is energy. Anna concentrated for a moment and the fire inside the fuselage died. It would still be hot inside, but no longer deadly. “Ben, if I can’t heal them, what can we do?”

“Whatever we can,” he answered. There was steel in Ben’s voice, but Anna didn’t understand what he thought he could do.

She followed him into the plane.

Ben choked and covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve.

Anna touched his arm. “I know it’s bad.”

“They’re all dying,” Ben said, his voice muffled by his sleeve. He took a bottle of water from his pack. “Anna, the worst thing in the world is to die alone. Please, we have to.”

She understood, then. She saw his big brother Tommy in Ben’s heart. Tommy, who died alone, fighting for his family. Ben was terrified he wouldn’t be able to do this, but Anna saw his strength. She knew what he thought he must do, and he could do it. She felt ashamed of herself for hesitating.

“Come. We’ll do what little we can.” Anna led him into the dark fuselage.

“Show me who,” Ben said.

Anna led him to a woman who was moaning softly. She was badly burned, but her face was almost untouched. The woman could see them.

Ben took the cap off the bottle and lifted it to her lips. “Help is coming,” he said softly, and Anna saw how the lie tore him apart. Ben looked up at her, pleading. Anna touched the dying woman’s forehead, releasing her from pain.

They went through the fuselage, helping those they could and leaving those beyond help to the reapers. It took nearly three hours. They could not save a single life, but they could bring comfort to the dying. Ben shared water with those they could reach and told his hopeful lie. Most people would not recognise an angel within a vessel, unless the angel chose to show themselves, but the dying often had greater perception. These people were surrounded by reapers; most of them saw Anna for what she was. She found that just her presence helped many of them.

Ben stayed strong through it all. 

Anna was observing the reapers. As the last soul in the fuselage was freed to eternity, the reapers gathered in what was left of the aisle. Silently, they formed themselves into a line, almost as if waiting for something. Anna watched; it was unusual behaviour for them. She considered asking one of them what was happening, but just then she heard Ben at her side, an odd, choking sound. 

Ben met her eyes, a little panic showing. 

Anna took his arm. “Let’s go,” she insisted, and transported them both out of the plane and back to the tree line. 

As they landed, Ben fell to his knees, retching. Anna knelt beside him and held his shoulders as he vomited into the snow.

Ben raised his head slowly. “I’m sorry.” He wiped his mouth. They had no water left.

“Sorry?” Anna repeated. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She offered her hand to help him up. “You are a good man, Ben. A courageous man.”

“We couldn’t help them,” he said.

“You knew that, and you tried anyway. That’s courage, Ben. And you showed me the right thing to do.” Now it was Ben who needed help, but Anna wasn’t sure her words were getting through to him. A sudden cramp in her abdomen gave her a jolt of fear. It was for herself as much as Ben when she said firmly, “We should go.”

Ben nodded, and Anna reached for him.

“Angel, stop!” a voice called. It was one of the reapers, this one in the form of a young woman, dressed in black and grey. Her feet made no impression on the snow as she ran toward them.

Anna waited, conscious of Ben at her side, who couldn’t see or hear the reason she had stopped.

“Why did you stay, angel?” the reaper demanded.

Anna’s first impulse was to refuse to answer: it was what any other angel would do. She glanced at Ben, who was looking at her, curious but trusting. “Just a moment,” she said quietly, to him, then turned back to the reaper. “I serve humanity,” she declared. “I stayed to serve.”

The reaper stared straight back at her. “Then you should know there will be more death in this place.”

“How? They are all dead.”

“Death,” the reaper shrugged. “It’s all we know.”

“Anna?” Ben said warily. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a message,” Anna explained. To the reaper she said, “Thank you for your warning.” She reached out for Ben and flew them both home.

  
  


Ben and Anna had been gone for hours and Haley was worried. She knew whatever Anna meant to do would take a while and she _did_ trust Anna to take care of Ben. But she still worried.

Eventually, her fidgeting annoyed Kat enough to drag her into the living room, force-feed her chamomile tea and make her sit down on the two-seater. Kat sat with her and pulled Haley into her arms, holding her close.

“Anna won’t let anything happen to Ben,” she said soothingly. She kissed Haley’s cheek.

“I know,” Haley sighed. “It’s just...”

“You don’t have to say it,” Kat told her, her breath gusting against Haley’s cheek. “You’re thinking about Blackwater Ridge, because there can be monsters in the woods. And you’re thinking about Tommy, because he left to try to help people and didn’t come back. But Ben isn’t alone out there.”

“Anna said there might be demons.”

“And she’s taught us all how to deal with them,” Kat answered, keeping her voice calm.

That calmness was a dead giveaway with Kat. She was worried, too. Haley turned in Kat’s arms. “I can’t just wait for them. I need to do something.”

“I don’t think going out there is a good idea,” Kat said hesitantly. She glanced around the room, then slid off the couch and went to the shelf above the fireplace. “You can’t concentrate enough to do anything important. Want to play cards?”

It did help. They were on their eighth hand of Go Fish when Anna and Ben appeared without warning in the middle of the room.

Ben looked pale and shaken and his boots were caked with snow. He dropped his backpack on the floor with a thud. Anna, beside him, turned to Ben as if she were about to speak. Her knees buckled and Ben caught her, yelping her name.

Haley forgot her worries instantly. A crisis always did that to her. She threw down her cards and flew across the room to Anna’s side. “Get her to the couch, Ben,” she ordered, helping him to support Anna’s weight. “Kat, bring water.”

Anna mumbled that she was okay as Ben and Haley half-carried her to the couch. Haley ignored her protest. She lifted Anna’s legs onto the couch and piled cushions behind her back.

“Anna, tell me the truth. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired.” Anna let her head fall back against the cushions.

“You’re _pregnant_ ,” Haley pointed out. “You’ve got to be careful for more than just your own sake.”

Kat offered Anna a glass of water. She took it, cupping the glass in both hands. The glass wasn’t full, but the water sloshed over the sides as Anna raised it to her lips: she was trembling badly.

Ben pulled a chair close to the couch and sat beside Anna. He had left his coat in the middle of the floor. He reached for Anna’s hands as she lowered the glass. “You’re cold.”

“I don’t feel the cold.” Anna insisted.

“I think you do, today,” Ben extracted the glass from her shaking hands and handed it to Haley. “Anna, you were incredible out there. Let us take care of you.” He looked at Haley.

She understood Ben’s unspoken request, but she worried about his solicitous attention to Anna. She hoped Ben wasn’t falling for the angel. Anna was very much spoken for, and several thousand years too old for Haley’s baby brother.

“I’ll put some more wood on the fire,” Haley offered. There was an old afghan draped over the back of the couch; Haley pulled it down and wrapped it around Anna’s shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Anna said again, but she sounded less certain. 

Haley stoked the fire and added another split log. She opened the grille, too, so the fresh fuel would catch more quickly. She picked up Ben’s coat on her way back and folded it over the back of his chair.

“Anna, can you tell us what happened?”

Anna nodded. “There were no survivors.” She looked at Ben. “No, that’s not quite true. There was no one I...we...could save. Some of the passengers survived the crash, but I couldn’t heal them. I tried, but...” Anna’s hand moved to her belly, a protective gesture.

Kat was sitting on the floor near Anna’s feet. “Something happened with the baby, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” Anna answered simply. “I don’t really understand it. It was as if every time I tried to use my grace...” Anna’s eyes went very wide. “Oh,” she breathed.

“What’s grace?” Haley asked. She sat down next to Kat.

“It’s what makes me an angel. It’s energy, power. And this life...my baby, is tied to my grace somehow.” Anna frowned. “But that would mean...” she stopped, the colour draining from her face.

Until Anna corrected herself, Haley hadn’t quite noticed it. Anna had never before referred to her pregnancy as a baby, or even as hers. She always said “life”. Whatever she had just figured out, it made the baby real to her for the first time. Judging from her reaction, it frightened her, too.

“It means,” Haley said, making her voice stern, “the same thing it means for every pregnant woman. You need to rest.”

Anna was gazing at the wall; she seemed dazed. “You’re right,” she agreed absently. “I think I’ll go to bed for a while.” She turned to Ben. “Ben, are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’ve seen worse.”

She took his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you for making me stay.” The words were serious, heavy with meaning. 

It made Haley uncomfortable. Something happened between them. It wasn’t that she felt excluded, although she did. They went to the site of a plane crash; whatever happened, it couldn’t have been pleasant. That raised all her protective instincts, all the more powerful because it was Ben.

Ben’s answering smile was shy. “Thanks for staying.” He stood and helped her up. Anna let him help, her movements less graceful than they used to be because of her pregnancy. She pulled the afghan around her shoulders.

“I’ll be fine, Haley,” Anna said, forestalling what Haley was about to say. The bedrooms weren’t very warm.

Haley smiled, “Get yourself to bed. I’ll bring you some hot tea.”


End file.
